


Nothing I Can’t Fix

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mechanics, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Missionary Position, Parent-Child Relationship, Sex in a Car, Vaginal Fingering, but like mildly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Becky’s car is broken and badly needs fixing. Luckily, her new town’s mechanic offers her all the service she could ever ask for.Single dad Tom, mechanic Tom, librarian Becky. Cute little AU. Get canon away from me, I do not want it.
Relationships: Becky Barnes/Tom Houston, Hannah Foster & Tom Houston, Lex Foster & Tom Houston
Comments: 27
Kudos: 21





	Nothing I Can’t Fix

Becky’s car broke the second week after she moved to a new city. She could have burst into tears in frustration, a little scared to be stranded in the middle of nowhere on a road she had only now driven down for the first time. At least there were the groceries in her trunk, so she supposed she wouldn’t starve until help came. Help wouldn’t come if she used her time to wallow rather than call for it, though. So much for treating herself to a slightly fancier healthy organic store the next town over.

The 4G was spotty at best and it took several relaunches of her search to land her on the right page. She scanned through the results − so many towing companies were way past her meager budget. Her battery was draining fast and it was starting to get a little dark on an early spring night.

_Houston Garage: Expedient assistance, quick and efficient service, cheapest prices._

Becky had not been used to handle any of her car issues and found herself blaming her parents a little for not teaching her, then herself for never having taken the initiative and her ex for having encouraged her ignorance. She took a big breath. A whole new life out here in this new place, a brand new Becky ready to take on the world. That had been the hope, at least. New Becky didn’t seem much more capable than the old foolish Becky had been. Perhaps a change of sky didn’t change a thing besides the pretty sights. The sunset, at least, was a lovely shade of red over the expanse of fields and woods as far as met the eye.

"Houston Garage, what do you want?" A gruff voice said over the phone.

Becky’s guts twisted with a punch of anxiety she bit back. She put on a smile to ready herself for conversation. Often, pretending was just as good as the effect desired. She had learned that soon enough.

"Hello," she said, chipper, "Hi, I’m sorry it’s late, I’m just, erm, stuck in the middle of nowhere and my car won’t start again and…"

"Location?" The man said.

Becky gave the approximate location.

"A’ight, be right over."

A whole two weeks in her new town hadn’t yet gotten her perfectly used to where everything was located and she only _thought_ she had given the right place. She didn’t _know_ for absolute certain. It wasn’t a large margin of doubt, but enough to keep her on the edge of her seat till finally, a van pulled to the side next to where she was stranded. ’Houston Garage’, the side of it read in an old coat of paint that was starting to chip. ’And Daughter’, a much fresher addition stated in bolder red. Before having even met the guy, the sight gave Becky some relief.

The door to the cabin opened to a young child jumping off. It was a little girl with two thick pigtails framing a curious and very alert face, though she hid behind the door when she realized Becky was looking at her. From the driver’s seat jumped out a man in denim overalls that had seen better days, all patched up and threaded thin, the sleeves tied at the waist, a t-shirt that might have been white when it had been bought tucked underneath. He had a smudge of oil across his bearded cheek and messy hair that bounced as he approached her briskly. The child hid behind him, holding his hand.

"Becky Barnes," he said, nodding.

"Yes," she replied and realized how broad she was smiling. "Yes, thank you so much for coming. I’m… not quite sure what I would do without you, Mr…"

He had been looking at the car, his eyes squinting as the brightness of the low sunset upset them, but turned to her.

"Houston," he said. He made to shake her hand but realized mid-air just how filthy his palm and fingers were. Rubbing them against the stained fabric of his shirt, he only exacerbated the situation and settled on awkwardly lowering the hand and ignoring the mishap altogether. "Tom Houston."

"Thomas Berel Houston," the child peeped.

Her little face appeared from under Tom’s arm and Becky smiled at her. Startled, she hid again behind the man's back, who scratched her scalp to soothe her.

"That's how it is?" He asked with fondness. "You beg me to come with and you're gonna play shy?"

But the girl would not thaw and he chuckled, leaving her to her hiding game. He looked at Becky again. His smile had something crooked to it, a bit to the left but lighting up his entire face with warmth in the haze of a pretty sunset. A friendly smile, a gentle one.

"So, the car just stopped working?"

She nodded, a little ashamed of herself. If she had paid more attention to the roars of her poor old car when they had started, if she had had it checked earlier... The focus had been on getting away, on getting by. She added the mistake to the mental tally she kept despite herself.

"Yes," she said as Tom opened the hood to have a look at the engine. "I was on my way home and it just..."

She suddenly blushed crimson at the realization that her words had trailed off, too distracted, caught up in the vision of the man bending over her engine to check its parts, the strong shape of his back, his arms. Next to him, the child was mimicking every motion, glancing at him briefly every so often to make sure she was looking at the exact same thing he was, touching the same parts he did. He had large, sturdy hands and Beckly lost herself in the thought that she would very much like to press her own against them, to hold his fingers between hers, soiled and calloused as they were.

"Yup," he said after some time, "Yeah, I think what broke here is the cable between..."

Becky listened to his explanation, though it was forgotten with the next blink of her eyes. Since when did she let important information slide off of her without paying due attention? Since when was her mind so easy to distract ? For a second, she was afraid Tom had noticed her thoughts wandering, though there was no evidence either way in the smile he gave. She wondered how she might have thought him a bit curt on the phone. In this moment, she found him calm and obliging, even a tad charming in his clear-cut direct manners.

"So can you fix it?" She asked hopefully.

Tom shook his head at once and Becky bit her lip. She hadn't necessarily had plans for the evening, nothing beyond cooking up something tasty for herself and dropping on the couch to let Netflix numb her mind. Still, the simplest, boringest plans brought her joy in a new routine she still had to learn.

"Not here and now," he clarified quickly, as if he could sense her anguish. "I think I got the part at the garage, I'd have to tow the car there to fix it up, though..."

"But... but I got stuff in there and..."

"Well," Tom said with a grin she thought might be meant as teasing, "I was thinking of dropping you home before taking it, miss."

He closed back the hood, making sure not to slam it and especially not on the child's hands, which she pulled back quickly and shoved in her pockets as if she had been caught guilty of some mischief.

"Though you can keep the car home and I'll be over tomorrow to fix it," he said with a shrug. "That's the same to me, if you like it better when it stays in your sight."

Her relief was much greater than the mundane unimportance of the situation had earned. Becky hadn't always had it in herself to fret. Regardless, his cordiality was well appreciated and she thanked him greatly. Piece by piece in her mind, she settled into a new plan for the rest of the week. The dinner could still be salvaged, her night, though shorter, would still be leisurely and she would unwind from the day all the same. She'd have to call off work tomorrow morning, she realized, and hoped her new manager would show herself understanding. There was the subject of payment and she found herself ardently hoping for the review she had read to be accurate. She would cross that hopefully tiny, inexpensive bridge when she would come to it.

"Okay," Tom said, flattening a hand against the hood and leaning on it to look at her, "I'll haul this thing back home, you with it, and then tomorrow is another day. We'll get it all patched up."

Becky broke into a smile.

"Great. Cool. Just what I need, thank you so much."

They looked at each other till at the same time, both of them seemed to realize the awkwardness of standing there idle after the plan had been so clearly laid out. Tom straightened himself, cleared his throat. Opening the back door to the van, he searched the content of a large wooden case and pulled out a thick rope.

"Hey, Hannah," he called out and the girl looked up from a road of pebbles she had been building on the ground. "Remember that knot we showed you?"

"Uh huh," Hannah nodded. "Yeah."

"You show me how it's done?"

He held up the coil of rope for her to grasp, though it seemed much too heavy for a small child. Becky reckoned she must have been school-aged, but barely so, six or seven. Small or not, the girl evidently had more confidence in herself than Becky and she snatched the rope from him with determination. Her tongue stuck out and she began to tie the heavy thread to Becky's car in a knot that, though clumsy and a bit loose from lack of strengh, looked more than adequate to her untrained eye. Tom seemed to agree. He had been standing there arms crossed to admire the handywork and patted her head when she came and gave him the end of the rope.

"Just like that," he praised, smiling. "I'll tighten it just a bit, alright?"

Becky watched him pull the knot to arrange it a little better, though she wasn’t looking at the knot nor at the car. She looked away.

"I’d offer you to sit the ride in your car," Tom said once he had backed the van close to tie the other part of the knot to the back of it to secure the two vehicles together, "But that’d be a lonely ride. There’s room for three in the van. If you… if you want."

"I would _love_ to," she replied and was annoyed at herself for the eagerness even she could hear in her own voice.

Tom didn’t seem fazed. She wondered if he had even noticed how flustered she knew she was. Likely, he couldn’t tell, having no point of comparison to her normal self. Even Becky wasn’t always sure what her normal self really was.

He opened the door to her on the passenger seat, though Hannah raced for the middle seat first and was already all buckled in when Becky climbed aboard. Tom sat at the driver’s seat. The floor on the passenger seat was littered with kid toys, though Hannah made no effort to play with any. Slowly, painfully, the engine croaked and pulled the car in its trail. He drove them onto the road and Becky gave her address.

"Close," Hannah said.

"Mmh?" Tom asked.

His eyes were on the road and he was driving with one hand, the other seized by Hannah who was toying with his fingers on her lap to pass time. Periodically, he had to use it to change speed but every time, he willingly gave it back.

"I’d say it’s a thirty minute ride," he said, "Give or take. That’s pretty close, yeah."

"Close to home," Hannah insisted.

That won her a glance, brief and filled with pride. The affection he seemed to hold for the child (his daughter, Becky supposed, though who was she to say or to care) was evident in every look, every word he spoke to her. Becky didn’t know why, but this made her trust him a little more. It wasn’t that she enjoyed beyond measure the fact of sitting in a foreign man’s car at night riding into the sunset. With a little girl he lavished with attention and sparse conversation, though, the ride was a lot more bearable. A lot more _than_ bearable, even.

"Has Lex been teaching you things again? Streets and all?"

Hannah shook her head. Her interest on the subject had dropped already and she was now staring at Becky, though she said nothing at all. Becky smiled at her but said no more either. Across the van, she thought she caught Tom glimpsing her way, but the look was gone as soon as she noticed it and she wondered if she had imagined it in the first place.

They didn’t say much to one another the entire ride, nor did Hannah, who Becky didn’t hear muster so much as another word. After a few minutes, Tom opened a window, leaning out an elbow to take in the wind. It was a little chilly for Becky’s usual taste, but she didn’t feel cold at all. Leaning against her own window, she was taking in the view, smiling to herself, warm and fuzzy feelings bubbling up inside. She was being so foolish to allow herself to leave her heart unguarded so. There was a trap somewhere, surely, and she was driving right into it. Still, she stared, she smiled. She felt.

"This is you," Tom said eventually.

With some maneuvering, he managed to back her car expertly into her driveway without so much as a scratch. Her home wasn’t big, some nothing of a front yard she still had to rearrange with flowers and bird nests when the sun would come, a narrow driveway that was just enough for her small car. A bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, no more and no less than she needed. Her cat was spying from the window but disappeared into darkness at the sound of the van. Outside, the sky was navy blue. Becky turned to Tom.

"Thanks for riding me all the way here," she said, shaking his hand before words hit her − and Tom − like a brick. He stared at her, their hands clasped together but unmoving. " _I mean_ , driving me... er..."

She was panicking. Doing the only rational thing she could think of, she snatched her hand from his like she had been burnt and pushed the door open as fast as she could to jump off without another peep.

"I’ll…" Tom cleared his throat. "I’ll untie the knot."

Becky resolutely did not look at him as he did so. She could not. She didn’t even think about it. Tom was soon on his feet again, shuffling a little awkwardly.

"Erm… So, be back tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Becky Barnes."

"Goodnight, Tom," she sighed out before she could stop herself. She froze. "Houston," she added hastily. "Mr Houston. Erm. Bye."

She ran to her door and slammed it shut. Too late, she realized that she had left her groceries in the car, though she waited a long time after she had heard Tom drive away to dare and step outside to get them.

She ruminated her ridiculously rosy thoughts over fancy shrimp pasta, the table set for two, treats in a small plate for Vanilla on the other side with a bowl of cat-safe milk. A crush. That was what it was, she begrudgingly avowed to herself. She had a _crush_ on the mechanic she had just met, a thing for this man and his smile and his arms and his warmth. What she could make of that admission, she did not know yet. Becky had never really thought she would fall for another guy, not so soon after moving here, but really not ever. She munched on her dinner, though it gave her very little answer as to what tomorrow would bring.

Tomorrow very luckily brought the Houston Garage van in front of her driveway, the same chipped paint, the same fresher addition. In the sunlight of mid morning, she saw it much more vivid and forced herself to walk out the house at a normal pace. Racing out was what her heart longed to, but she had to force herself into more dignity than that. She simply had to. Across from her, the van door opened on the other side and she found herself wishing she had worn something a lot nicer than the shapeless sweater she had put on. Maybe if she were wearing something more revealing…

"Hey," a teenage girl said. "Becky Barnes, right?"

She was clad in the same sort of overalls than Tom Houston had been, the front of it open to reveal some graphic t-shirt Becky could not make out the meaning of. Dark hair tied into a knot of a bun at her nape gave plain view of her unsmiling face. Becky thought she recognized some of yesterday’s little girl in her traits.

"Yes," she said with some hesitation. "Er… Wasn’t… wasn’t Mr Houston going to come and fix my car?"

She realized she was being uncourteous. At least, what she was wearing didn’t matter whatsoever anymore.

"I’m sorry, I was just hoping… I didn’t mean to imply… Crap. I’m sorry."

The girl narrowed her eyes on her with suspicion.

"He meant to," she said slowly, "But things got busy at the shop this morning so he sent me. That a problem with you? "

"Nope. Not at all. I’m sorry, go ahead and… and fix it…"

"Well, I’ll try."

The girl was meticulous about her work. After checking the engine from the top much like Tom had, she lifted the car with a jack to better slide underneath and have a closer look from the bottom. She spent a good while there, periodically grabbing tools from her toolbox which bore the nametag "LEXI’S" in sharpie at the side in a childish handwriting − Becky thought she remembered Tom mentioning a Lex last night. Likely the daughter who had earned her addition to the van print. Eventually the girl slid out again and sat up on the creeper.

"A’ight, so it’s definitely broken," she said with the hint of a smirk.

Becky chose to appreciate the snarky attitude. Smooth conversation, she always thought, was often preferable to taking offense in banter. Best to keep her bite for the people who truly wished her ill. She smiled.

"Well, thank the Lord I found help in an expert," she replied. "Will you be able to fix it?"

Perhaps out of a petty but amused revenge, perhaps because she truly was an expert, the girl went on a long, albeit a little bored explanation of the issue that contained many more complicated technical terms than Becky had heard in her life.

"Okay…" She said hesitantly, trying to hide her utter ignorance. The way Lex smirked, she didn’t think she succeeded much at that.

"Basically, there’s more wrong with it than Dad thought, there’s another piece we’ll have to replace. I’ll call him to check if we have it in stock at the workshop. If not, we’ll have it by Monday and come again to install it."

Today was Wednesday. Becky’s manager had reluctantly agreed to let her take a few hours of the morning off. Her car still sitting idle and unable to start, she would have to take the bus to work later today, possibly a few days more. Briefly, she had the guilty thought that she would have taken that burden much more gladly if Tom had come to her house today to warm her with his smile and blunt courtesies.

The call was made and she noted just how easily banter seemed to flow between Lex and her father, a lot of sass which she was certain was received with as much affection as the younger girl’s timidity had been. Finally, Lex hung up on him and turned back to Becky.

"Kay," she said decisively. "So we don’t have it at the shop. He’s ordering it, this will be fixed on Monday."

Becky nodded.

"Will it be…" She stopped herself. This was rude.

Lex cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What?" She said with perhaps a well deserved biting tone.

Becky shuffled from one feet to the other. She shouldn’t have said a thing, she shouldn’t say more. Making up a lie on the spot, however, was much harder than she had thought.

"I was just wondering… if perhaps Mr Houston would…"

"What’s your deal, lady?" Lex snapped before catching herself too. "Shit. Erm, _crap,_ I mean. Don’t tell him I said shit, he doesn’t like when I curse at clients."

"Not a word," Becky promised, smiling.

She was relieved for the focus to be off of her for even a moment, but Lex was looking at her expectantly and she tried to give an awkward acceptable explanation.

"No, it’s just that… He helped yesterday and drove me home and… I didn’t mean to say you would be…"

She groaned. This might be worse than if she had said nothing. Lex’s eyes were squinting at her till all at once they lit up with understanding and Becky felt ashamed to be so transparent.

"I’ll see you on Monday," she sighed.

But Lex was now smirking.

"I’ll tell _him_ to come," she said and Becky wanted to dig up a hole right under her feet and lay herself in it. "But if you break his heart, there’s no repair parts for that."

She tried not to think of him that day. She had a new job, after all, and though working around the library gave her ample time for her own free distracted thoughts, it was best to keep a cool head and a strict grasp on her own frantic heart. Becky loved to keep control at least over herself, if she couldn’t change what life threw at her face. Still, the charming smile of Tom Houston kept poking at her brain, the fine shape of his arms twisted her stomach with want and she found herself so very entertained by her own mind she barely saw the day pass. The same thing the next day, and the next, and by the time Sunday came around and she had the day off, she had stopped the efforts of keeping him out of her thoughts. It was harmless, she supposed. She would see him once more, she would enjoy the pretty smiles, and then she would go on with her life. Until then, a little bit of dreaming couldn’t hurt.

When the knock came at her door that Monday morning, she felt like she had been holding her breath for ages and finally breathed free when she opened and saw him again. Tom nodded in recognition, smiled, and something was healed in Becky’s heart.

"So, let’s get this buddy fixed, huh?"

Toolbox in hand, a crate of a few different parts lying next to her poor broken car, he was here to do a good job and Becky was here to cheer on him to do so.

"Thank you, Mr Houston," she sighed, a little too amorously for the dignity she had hoped to maintain.

"Tom," he said with a handsome awkward smile. "You can… call me Tom…"

Her heart pulsed to new racing speeds in all parts of her − and some parts more than others − and she smiled back.

"Thank you, Tom," she corrected.

He glanced back at the car, approaching it. He put his hand against the hood as if he was petting it and Becky forced herself to look at his face instead, for her imagination ran too wild.

"I’d say this could take a couple hours, or so."

"You’re welcome as long as it takes," she said, "No matter how long."

Her manager might have a different opinion on that, but Becky had switched her shift around with another librarian this time and her ass was covered. Tom set around to work on the car. Becky had no idea if she ought to stick close by − though she knew she wanted to. Sneakily watching from the window, she thought, might be a greater offense than annoying him with idle chatter. At first hidden away underneath the vehicle, Tom soon opened the hood to have a look from there and she reckoned some company wouldn’t hurt him.

"Thirsty?" She asked, offering him a tall glass of water as she stepped out again.

He had barely been working for ten or fifteen minutes and it wasn’t an especially sunny day, but he took the glass like she had offered him mercy and life. Chugging down half of it, he rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand before carefully putting the glass down on the ground and going back to work.

"Thanks," he said. "You’re very kind."

She smiled, much too proud of herself for a compliment born out of sheer politeness, she was sure. Still, it was a successful contact and that could only count for something.

"Lex has got a good hunch for these things," he said. "I’d have spotted this at some point, probably, but she did good."

"Uh huh," Becky said, nodding. "Yes, she did."

He bent over the engine to tighten some bolt and Becky bit her lip. His overalls were buttoned all the way up today, which was a pity and a blessing, missing out on his arms for the sight of his…

"I’ll give you the parts for half price," he said, turning back and Becky’s eyes had to snap upwards quite immediately. "Cause you had to wait and everything…"

"Oh! Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, I’m…" She felt very pink in the face. "I’m just happy you’re here now. To fix this, I mean."

Tom looked at her for a few seconds of eternity before smiling and going back to work. Having now ignited contact, Becky thought herself safe in staying here to watch him and make conversation. She sat on the shallow stone wall that delineated her driveway, crossed her legs. She ought to have put something pretty on, something more than jeans and a sweater, but she couldn’t very well go back inside to change, could she? In her heart, she hoped she was not imagining that Tom seemed to look her way more often than strictly needed. Her rational mind told herself she was just seeing what she wanted to see.

"The thing about this," he said after some time, as if the silence needed to be filled by one or the other and he wouldn’t have it linger more than needed, "Is when you run too many miles in too short a time, then…"

He went on some technical explanation that wasn’t at all unlike the one Lex had given a few days prior. Becky wondered if he was thinking that, by her presence here around him, she was tacitly asking for his expert explanation, rather than simply enjoying his company. She supposed that the clarification would incriminate herself, so she smiled and nodded as she listened to everything that went wrong with her car. Some of what he said, she did know about. It was the trip here, she supposed, too many states she had crossed in barely a few days to move to this place. She had been in such a hurry to leave and more than ever, she thought she should truly be here to stay. Most of it, though, was foreign to her and Tom seemed very confident in his assertions. She paid close attention − and she didn’t, for if he taught her everything, who would she call to repair her car if it ever broke again?

"So, so that’s what happened," he said eventually. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. The sun was starting to peak intermittently between white clouds. "But it’ll be back on the roads just later today, I promise."

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," she blurted out.

Tom chuckled awkwardly and she wondered if she had made him feel uncomfortable. Then the sun hit his face and she saw red at his cheeks and wondered if that was her doing or the exercise. Either way, she let him go back to the car, silently watching as he went on and on, checking everything that could possibly be checked, doing a much more thorough maintenance than she had ever requested or expected. Time, she knew, was pressing them, though she had never thought that Tom would be the one to try and squeeze every last moment out of it.

"Well, look at that," he said softly. He looked up. "The sun is shining."

Becky smiled. Shaded in the neighbor’s hedge, she could barely feel a difference, but Tom basking in sunlight became a little too hot, for he opened the top of his overalls to let it flop down around his waist, only held up by his belt. A white tank top underneath was much cleaner than the t-shirt had been the other day. He was a little sweaty and she found that she didn’t mind that sight one bit. His back to her, what was there to stop her from staring but her own resolve? And that one was weaker by the minute.

"I think I’m done," he did say eventually.

"You think?" She teased, taking the empty glass he handed her back.

Tom grinned, enjoying the banter though he gave none back of his own. He nodded towards the car.

"I _am_ done," he said. "I’m sorry, I think I took a little longer than I said…"

"It’s nothing," she replied at once. "It’s… It’s been a pleasure. Truly."

Tom was scratching the back of his head and she loved the way his happiness shone around him quietly, his gentle but reassuring presence.

"I’ll map out the costs," he said, "With that discount I said, and… and we’ll send it to you and then…"

Becky’s brain was working at racing speeds to find an excuse to keep him just one moment more. She didn’t know enough about cars to ask him more on that front and anything personal would be too invasive, too bold.

"Do you wanna take a shower?" She asked in a burst of creative thinking. Great fucking job. "It’s been a workout, I think, and…"

Tom’s shoulders sagged in something like relief.

"Yeah, a shower sounds great. I stink, don't I?"

"Well, _I_ never said it."

She showed him to her bathroom, which was lit by the morning sun and which she had decorated with great care and thought was very cozy indeed. Tom was being very quiet, smiling kindly as he listened to her tiny tour of everything he might need.

"And here’s a towel," she said. "Make yourself at home."

"Hey, thanks."

Realizing she had been lingering there as they stared at each other with timid smiles, she bit back a gasp and quickly made her way out of the room. The door shut with a dull _thud_ behind her and, after dropping onto the couch, Becky grabbed a cushion and groaned into it in frustration. Who _did_ that and offered the mechanic a shower as an extra tip or something of that sort? Stranger yet, who _accepted_ it? Water began to run across the door and she had half a mind to open it and invite herself under the stream with him. Another groan and perhaps even greater frustration. She thought of his hands, how firmly they gripped his tools, how strong when he worked. She dreamed of how they would feel in her hands, or much better yet on other choice parts of her body. A shiver coursed through her and she leaned back her head against the sofa. Her mind was now jumping from one thought to the next, a scenario building itself up and up and running wild and Becky did nothing at all to stop it. Quite the opposite, she refined every idea all less proper than the next, imagined better ways Tom’s body could entwine with hers, and she was blushing deep red by the time the door pushed open again. She startled.

"Hey," Tom said, who smiled like he had noticed her surprise but did not mention it for the sake of courtesy. "I noticed your sink faucet is leaking a lil bit. I’ll grab my toolbox and tighten it nice and snug, alright?"

The top of his overalls was down again and Becky was certain the nod she gave must have been addressed to his biceps much more than to his face. Tom went out and came back in with his toolbox − Becky noticed a nametag with the same handwriting as the one on Lex’s, only this one marked the box as "DADDY’S" possession. This made her smile all the more. Another few minutes in his presence, though, were not enough to come up with an excuse to keep him here any further. Deep down, she knew she wanted to ask him out. Right at the surface, her nerve was blocking any attempt. She had not always been so anxious and she hated herself for being the first hindrance to something − no, some _one_ − she so intensely desired.

"There we go," Tom said, coming out of the bathroom again. "It’s fixed."

"Thank you so much," she said, trying to hide just how conflicted she was feeling. "You’ll add it to the bill, then."

"I’ll add _nothing_ ," he retorted. "Anything for y… erm… for a client…"

They were looking into each other’s eyes so intently − how willingly she would have stared for hours on end. Tom tapped his fingers awkwardly against his thigh before an idea suddenly seemed to come to him.

"Do you wanna come back to the shop later this week?" He asked. "So we can make sure everything is really running as it should. Free of charge, of course, just… Standard maintenance."

She beamed up at him.

"I’ll see you then."

Becky cursed at herself the entire morning of the day Tom had asked her to come for the check up. The car was running absolutely fine, of course, better than it had in a while. There was hardly any need for her to go, so why was she dolling herself up for it? Yet she couldn’t have stopped if she’d tried. For so long, she had lost the habit of really dressing up beyond casual that the look she pulled today was barely above that, but she poured every effort into it anyways. Her legs shaved smoothed as she showered with one the fancy expensive artisan soap bars she had received at a secret Santa exchange she kept for special occasions instead of the regular dollar store bulk packs she always used. She even put on a bolder makeup than usual, something to impress. She plucked from her wardrobe a dress she hadn’t worn in years and, though it was just a little bit tighter than she remembered, it fit just fine. She’d have to check for female gyms in the area. Looking at her reflection, she let herself believe it still looked good.

"Woah, you look _great_ ," Lex sneered when Becky walked out of her car at the garage. "For no reason in particular."

Becky felt her cheeks burn up despite herself and she wanted to hide back in her car, but a door behind them opened and Tom, who had been in a hurry, stopped at its threshold.

"Woah…" He gulped, smiled. "You look great."

"Thanks," she said and her shame melted away as soon as she had his eyes on her. "So do you."

"Thanks…"

He was in a different pair of work overalls, dark red coarse fabric this time and much cleaner than the ones she had seen him in before. His hair was combed much more tidy, too, though she had also loved it when it was more of a mess. He looked dashing even now as he turned to Lex and narrowed his eyes on her.

"Don’t you have something to do?" He asked. "Where’s Hannah?"

At another time, Becky would have felt sorry for the girl to be made unwelcome, even more after she herself had already been uncourteous about it the other day. She was too giddy to care right now, too caught up in the evidence that he too wanted to be alone with her. Lex raised her hands to the air as she walked away.

"So much for the apprenticeship, dude…"

Still, she left by the same door he had come in, which she shut with more force than strictly needed. Tom glared at it for a few seconds before looking at Becky again, and his gaze was much softer then. He shrugged.

"I’m sorry ’bout Lex," he said. He grabbed a jack from a workbench to lift the car and, his back to Becky for a moment, there was no one again to catch her looking at his arms. "She’s a really good kid, I promise, she’s just a little… sharp…"

Becky giggled, taking a seat on a bench nearby as Tom lay on the rolling mechanic seat and slid under the car to check it.

"She’s your daughter, right?" She asked.

"Yup."

Becky didn’t quite know what math to make of this. Lex could drive, couldn’t she? That would make her at least sixteen, and what with the age at which people typically had children… But Tom didn’t look much older than she was.

"Adoptive daughter," he clarified as though he could read her thoughts. "That makes no difference, of course, just… I’m 32. And a _single_ adoptive dad."

He had put an emphasis on ’single’ which made her bite her lip to stop an outburst of joy.

"Fuck, you don’t care, I guess, I’m sorry…"

"I _do_ care," she said, feeling suddenly much bolder from the open admission. "I care a lot."

She dared to glance only to notice that Tom had slid back from underneath the car and was sitting up. His hands were a little smudged with grease.

"Is it alright?" She asked, gesturing at the car.

Tom nodded. For a moment it seemed that he had lost the use of words, but it was brief.

"Yup." He sat up and rubbed the dirty hands on the coarse fabric of the overalls. So much for them having been clean. "You’re totally good to go."

She hesitated, her car keys in hand. It was most definitely now or never, unless she wanted to be a stalker creep and Becky more than most had every reason in the world to not fall to those tendencies. There was a way out of this, one way or another. She had to trust herself again, she had to be as strong as she knew she could be. What was the worst that could happen this time? A polite refusal seemed just about the extent of any harm Tom could inflict on her in this moment. She didn’t quite have the budget to damage her car on purpose to create another occasion to see him.

"Actually," she said, taking a big breath and trying to brace herself for the worse, "I am. Good to go."

He quirked an eyebrow curiously. _Crap_. She had hoped she would be fine by being a little subtle − if that was even in the cards for her anymore, given how flustered she seemed to be whenever he was around. She grimaced a little, but tried a more blunt approach.

"Are you, erm, free some time? Tonight? Whenever you want." She winced at herself for sounding so desperate. "I’m − I’m asking you out."

She dared to look into his eyes, though for in moment they were stunned and blank, but she barely had the time to fret that he broke into a grin.

"Fuck, I didn’t wanna ask cause you’re a client and I didn’t wanna be a dick or like, make you uncomfortable."

She felt as though the world had been lifted from her shoulders. His smile was so bright, so joyful in a way that was only matched by the happiness she felt within herself too.

"So… ?" She asked timidly.

"So fuck yeah. Whenever you want."

Butterflies were unleashed inside of Becky, fireworks and ribbons bursting in her mind.

"FUCK YEAH!" Lex cried out on the other side of the door.

"Lex, I fucking swear to God!" Tom growled.

Becky felt breezy the rest of the day at work knowing they were seeing each other tonight. She kept smiling and several coworkers noted how chipper she was being, how particularly pleasant. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, of course, and there was a bit of his warm smiles in every good advice she gave to the readers, every time she helped someone out, every time she had to recommend a book to someone who asked. By the time she picked him up, she was ready to burst. He climbed with some hurry and she thought with amusement that he might be fleeing from Lex’s caustic snark again. No longer in work clothes, he looked so very handsome in jeans and a clean plaid.

"You look really nice," she said.

"So do you," he replied.

They smiled.

They talked all evening at the restaurant he had picked − she knew nothing in this city so far, but Tom quickly admitted that he never really went out and was not much more knowledgeable. He wasn’t much of a talker either, he said, though she thought he was a great listener. He talked plenty enough anyways, always finding a kind turn of phrase to compliment or show interest in what she was saying and there wasn’t an awkward moment all night. Not anymore, not now that they had given each other the wordless permission of showing unrestrained interest in one another.

"So, single adoptive dad?"

He told her the story of how Lex and Hannah, nées Foster, came to be in his custody after their birth mother overdosed. He had been a coach on Lex’s football team back then and known her well, though he had cut back on the sport as time went on and the girls took up more and more of his time, for it became obvious their mother would not be fighting to be getting them back.

"So, we were gonna have them for good," he said with some melancholy tainting the happy memory.

Becky had noted the ’we’ but waited for him to explain it better. He had been married, he said with a grimace, as if he had not imagined he would be mentioning a former spouse on a first date. They were young and newlyweds when Lex and Hannah had needed a new home, a forever home. Jane had had another idea of what her family was to look like. One child, ideally a biological one, not when they had not yet been married for a year and didn’t even have a mortgage yet and absolutely not some ’junkie children from the street’.

"She didn’t word it like that," he said. "She just… had a plan and Lex and Hannah didn’t fit with it. I don’t think divorce was really part of it either, to be honest, but I guess that was the lesser of two evils."

He was silent for a moment. Becky was filled with a new compassion for him. Not all men would have chosen to keep a pair of children in need instead of a presumably beloved wife. Not all men would have chosen the wife, either.

"That was seven years ago, when Hannah was a baby," he sighed. "I’m sorry, it doesn’t even… I mean, we didn’t end up hating each other or anything, but we don’t really talk anymore either. That’s all in the past."

Becky bit her lip.

"I was married, too," she confessed.

She had hoped to keep this a secret here, to turn a new page forever, but the past always caught up with you in unexpected ways. If someone were to know, she had thought, then the revelation would not have been from herself. She knew now she had thought wrong.

"You were?"

Tom didn’t look upset, he didn’t sound upset. She thought on what to say, how to tell him. Perhaps not all of it was first date material, no matter how much she trusted him already.

"I left him," she said and Tom nodded in comprehension. "He wasn’t a very good husband."

Luckily, she kept telling herself, he was bad enough that not even to get her back under his control would he track her across the country. He wouldn’t even know how. Tom didn’t need to know about this part just yet, the messy last few months of yelling and fighting and wall punching that had eventually not limited itself to the walls. Getting a restraining order, then moving out like a thief in the night away from all her worries… There was no need to flaunt already that she felt like damaged goods.

"So I moved here," she said, smiling to shake herself out of the bad thoughts. She tried never to let them linger too long. "A new job, a new home, a new life… and I’d love to have you in it, Tom."

He reached out across the table to hold her hand.

"Well, Miss Barnes, I think we might want the same thing."

He offered to pay the bill once they were ready to leave, but she politely declined and he accepted to split without insisting. She liked that, being listened to, her wishes being respected without even a hint of reluctance. When they walked back to the car, they held hands and Becky kept glancing at the point of contact for fear it would end too soon. Her skin was burning up against his, she was sure.

"I know that drive in movie place," Tom suggested, "If you wanna go."

"That sounds nice," she said.

He squeezed her hand in reply and she wondered how she would start the car again, for she never wanted to drop the touch. As they drove, she tentatively held his hand on top of the cup holder and Tom confidently held it back. At the open air cinema, he offered again to pay for the tickets and this time, she agreed, though she didn’t know if she just wanted to make him happy or is she liked being doted on. She parked some way away from the other cars, just a few scattered ones even on a Friday night.

"Thank you for the ticket," she said. "You really didn’t have to."

"Thank you for the date," he replied. "I was so afraid I’d never see you again…"

The movie started and its sound cut any conversation they might have added to that. Tom held her hand and she realized she had no interest in the movie after all, lost instead in the gray green of Tom’s pretty eyes which she saw a bit too dimly in the darkening night. She breathed deep. A small part of her was chiding herself for swooning so easily − she barely knew the guy and yet her heart was in a frenzy she didn’t think was rationally deserved. For all she knew, Tom could be a total creep in disguise, she could be fooled again, he could be an asshole…

"I really wanna kiss you," he muttered softly.

His eyes darted briefly to her lips, back to gaze into her own eyes and the seed of doubt flew away. They leaned into one another to kiss and Becky felt like all parts of her body were reawakened, like she was set into new motion and wasn’t stopping now − she had not even known they were asleep. A hand touched her face and she shivered with the contact. The other, just as strong and sturdy, caught her waist and a thousand times she had thought of him touching her the rest of the week came to fruition. His hands on her were so, so much better than she had hoped − and god knew how ardently she had.

"Tom," she breathed out contentedly − why couldn’t she remember feeling this happy before?

He was emboldened by her being so responsive and groaned into the next kiss. She loved the feel of his beard under her palm, how decidedly he kissed her when he knew she wanted him. Her fingers caught around his hand at her waist to slide it to her thigh and she loved how much bigger it was than her own hand. She loved how easily he listened to her without a word needing to be uttered.

"Do you…" She felt ridiculous, a little trashy. Her dress pulled up her thighs a little. "Do you wanna touch me, too?"

If she had had to wait more than the passing of a heartbeat, she would have died on the spot. Tom’s reply didn’t leave her that long.

"Yeah," he said instantly, eagerly. "Yeah, I wanna."

He made sure − a gentleman − that she was still well covered by the flowery fabric as his fingers grazed underneath against the inside of her thighs. Up they rode under her dress, tapping and caressing softly. Through the fabric of her underwear, she received his touch just as desperately as if they had had all the time in the world. She moaned and Tom looked at her with hazy, smitten eyes, gave her the softest kiss. His fingers dipped underneath and he groaned against her lips.

"Fuck, you’re wet."

"Uh huh," she nodded, parting her legs a little to encourage him. "All for you."

They were trapped mid desire, grabbing onto whatever snippet of it they could live in the moment without being arrested for public obscenity, incapable to leave this snippet to live it much more fully. Two fingers pressed up inside slickly and had her rock herself into their motion, no matter how awkward the angle was. She still felt him good.

"I’m not that kinda guy," he said in a low voice, a confession. "Usually. I don’t do… casual."

She was crazed by the slide of his fingers in and out, almost too distracted to be making conversation. Her arms around his neck, she kissed him.

"Then let’s not make this just casual," she replied and adored the grin at his lips. "I think I like you, Tom."

The smile of him was so sweet and innocent she could barely compound it with the absolute obscenity of what his fingers were doing to her. In the middle of a field, a few cars sat scattered around them, just enough in public to give her an extra thrill though not nearly enough to be so obvious as to be thrown out if anyone happened to so much as glance in the general direction of their car. If anything, she felt like a high schooler caught in a passion make out session gone out of control.

"I think I like you too, Becky Barnes."

His face nuzzled her neck and breathed her in.

"Did you wanna…" He was kissing her ear, nibbling on the skin underneath and Becky was crazy with it, "Go back? To one of our places? Though the girls are at mine…"

Despite his words, he showed no sign at all of wanting to stop their present endeavors just yet. Outside, there was some action on the huge screen but Becky had all the action she needed right here in his arms, under his fingers.

"Yes," she said decisively. "Yes, let’s go back to my place. After…"

"Yes ma’am," he grinned. "Working on it."

His palm was grinding against her clit in a motion that couldn’t be incidental, so precise it was, exactly how she liked. She loved how naturally attuned to her body he was. She loved how safe she felt, how well taken care of in his arms. Her hands tugged him closer to better kiss him.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about you from the moment we met," she whispered, pushing through her slight embarrassment.

She was so close to the edge, nearly there. She could only hope that Tom would be here to stay when she was done and not just a figment of her dreams.

"You looked really hot in those overalls and all I could think about all week was getting you out of them."

"Fuck…"

He grunted and renewed his efforts. A hand touched her breast to caress it softly and she wished she were naked to feel the exact touch of his fingers on her there as well.

"I want you," he said, his voice deep and intoxicating, "So bad."

Their bodies were so close, no matter the awkward position half across her seat, half on his on the passenger side, but it hardly felt like enough contact. She wanted so much more of him, so much longer and better.

"And I want you…"

She came muffling her moans in the crook of his shoulder, trying to ride out the pleasure at his fingers the best she could despite the cramped angle. Tom held her close, strong arm around her waist, much more tender than the luscious situation would suppose. When finally she came through the other side, he looked at her like he had never seen anything so awesome. With his thumb, he pushed a strand of hair out of her face and kissed her softly. She smiled. She might have purred.

"Home," she said decisively.

The cat startled at their entrance and she barely caught a glimpse of her tail as she ran under the couch, but Becky had no time for friendlier introductions. Another time. For now, her sole focus was on Tom and the magic of his kisses. He had hooked her legs around his waist to carry her and she hated to break the kiss even for such a short moment as to guide him to the bedroom, though his lips sliding to her neck were a great reward for the effort.

"Door at the end of the hall," she muttered.

Tom’s hands squeezed her butt and made her giggle. She felt so safe in his arms, so secure.

"I wanna make you feel so good," he said. "Tell me what you want and I wanna give it to you."

She helped him push the door open. A little breathless, very excited, they fell on the bed and Becky straddled Tom. She pawed viciously at the buttons of his plaid flannel to tear them open. A tank top underneath, the sleeves bundling at his elbows, there was far too much fabric between them and too little time to tame the hunger growing in her. An ever greater obstacle was Tom’s hands in the way, just as hasty to undress her and in doing so, preventing both of them from really getting much done. Playfully, she seized his hands and, pushing him flat to his back, pinned them over his head.

"Hush," she said, "Give me a second."

At first amused by her assertion, his glance turned a lot more impressed when she pulled off her dress in one swift tug. Lying there unmoving, he gulped and Becky loved the look of him underneath her for a moment, his sole focus on her and on what she would do. She had a little time for being leisurely, though she wanted him dearly and she wanted him now. Her bra unhooked, she loved how beautiful she felt in his gaze. She lifted from his lap for just a moment to slide off her underwear too, and in a brief passing thought considered the horribly filthy idea of not wearing any at all the next time she saw him. She straddled his lap again feeling even more hot than she had, biting her lip.

"Did you…" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Did you want me to stay put or can I touch you?"

She reached down to touch his cheek and he brushed a kiss against the inside of her wrist. She smiled.

"Please touch me."

Immediately he sat up to better kiss the skin exposed, his mouth and his hands everywhere at once, lips, neck, breasts. A hand at her butt and she sighed contentedly. Tom obediently let her puppet him around for a moment so she could push the flannel off of him. She stroked his arms, entranced by the firm feel of muscles under her fingers, how strong they were. How much she loved them around her, how well they lived up to the fantasies. She grabbed a fistful of his tank top.

"Take this off too," she told him. "Please."

He pulled off the tank top and she loved this sight too, a broad chest she flattened her hands on. A racing heartbeat at her fingertips. A little more hesitant, Tom unbuckled his jeans, as if this wasn’t also part of the show, as if this wasn’t her treat.

"Can I?" She asked, a hand at his crotch over the fabric. She could feel him hard underneath and felt very warm in the face.

He nodded and Becky pushed down his boxers to take him in her hand, trying not to act too silly, too eager, nor to look at him too obviously − though she wanted to. He was hard in her hand, and big too, and she shivered with desire. She wanted him all at once – in her hand, her mouth, but in this moment she craved him most of all inside of her, for their bodies finally to bond as one.

"Tom," she sighed with contentment, "Where did you put the condoms?"

"Pocket," he said.

Becky scrambled off of him to tug his pants and boxers all the way off, his shoes too for good measure, and she snatched the box from his back pocket. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of him sitting there rock hard on her bed, leaning back casually on his hands. She liked that a lot. It had been a little awkward to have to stop at a convenience store to get condoms, more awkward still to face the knowing taunting glances the clerk had thrown them, but it had been an awkward necessity. Tom took the condom from her hand to wrap himself up. Pulling her to him, he laid her down under him and parted her legs to him. His fingers found her, found her wet and waiting. Becky wrapped her hands around his biceps and beamed up at him. She was so, so ready for him.

"I haven’t done this in a while," he admitted.

She smiled, a little shy.

"Neither have I," she said and ran fingers up and down his arms comfortably.

Tom’s dick was toying with her. Ten times, she thought he would push in and fuck her good, so wet and ready she was, but ten times he teased with just the tip, pulling out again once she got too used to him. Still, she loved the teasing smile of him, the anticipation he was building. In this instant, everything he was doing would have been perfect, no matter what.

"But I’m glad I’m doing it with you," he said and finally pushed in and stayed there.

She yanked him down for a kiss, groaning at the exquisite sensation of Tom lodged deep inside of her, though she _had_ been unused to this and she was glad for him taking his time a little. The size, she thought with immeasurable naughtiness, was certainly a factor to get used to. She had never thought she would care about that. There was no rush, in any case. The kiss he gave her was languid and unhurried, his tongue pressing into her mouth, a hand cupping her cheek protectively.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered. He kissed her breast, flicked his tongue at a nipple. She loved how much he seemed to adore her body. "I’m such a lucky man."

She was the one who felt lucky. With every deep, leisurely thrust into her that she matched with her own, she felt like the luckiest woman alive. She marveled at how easily they found each other, how right at hand the perfect mood and balance. It didn’t feel like a first date hump. It didn’t feel like a third date, a tenth. It felt nothing short of reuniting with a long lost lover and it was much more than Becky could handle. As if he could sense that she was overwhelmed, Tom pressed his face to the crook of her neck, breathed in comfortably and, covering her skin with soft kisses, soothed and healed her.

"You feel so good," he told her and held her close. "I feel so good here with you."

His arm was resting comfortably around her face, careful not to yank her hair he seemed to particularly like, and she was surrounded by the coziness of his embrace from all around. Bigger than her, broader too, he was inevitable, an everywhere presence around her body. Becky moaned, which he responded to with another kiss, attuned to one another in complete harmony. He felt so good too − his kisses, his arms, and for sure the impeccable way he filled her over and over to perfection. More than the pleasure of her body, her soul was at rest.

"Did you wanna get on top?" He asked, "Or am I doing okay here?"

She giggled and kissed him and loved how eagerly he poured himself into every kiss. His eyes glistened with something soft and magic and she thought she might die if she had to change a single thing about this moment.

"You’re doing much more than okay, Tom," she replied. Her fingers twirled his hair playfully right under his ears. "I’ll owe you next time?"

He pushed in much more brusquely at the mention of a next time, taken with a burst of new energy that left her a whimpering mess. He was more determined all of a sudden, picking up somewhat of a more eager pace and catching her moans at her lips. She felt him so good, every thick inch of him thrusting in her over and over till her thoughts were fuzzy with it.

"You’ll never owe me a thing," he retorted.

Their foreheads were pressed together, their bodies rolling as one. The bed was creaking a little under them which made Becky grateful to now be renting her own house, not a flat where her trysts would be revealed to her downstairs neighbors at every burst of passion. Passion was just about pouring from Tom from all parts.

"I wanna do you so good," he said like he wasn’t already doing that, like he wasn’t filling Becky with all the warmth and the heat she could fathom. "I… I wanna make love to you."

She didn’t know what to reply, how to let him know just how much this meant to her. Being the object of such care, tender and thorough, was not something she took for granted, for she wasn’t used to it. She wanted to drown in it till it became natural, till she stopped feeling guilty for it. Tom seemed up for reaching that point with her, she thought, though that could have been wishful thinking. Still, she could only hope he could taste the thanks in her kisses.

"Honey, I wanna make you feel so good," he muttered at her lips.

“You are,” she said. He was getting a little more hurried and she urged him on, trapped his waist in the vice of her legs for him to push deeper, better. He groaned. “I do.”

“Good. Good...”

He was filled with purpose every passing second aiming to please her. Becky felt so doted on, so cherished under him she could barely breathe or think. She lived only in his embrace, pinned under his gentle passion.

“I’m close,” he said in a low whisper and she loved the sound of his voice thick with arousal. “Can you come like this?”

She nodded lazily. Perhaps for the first time, her pleasure was someone’s concern beside her own and that, as much as anything, made it all the easier for her to lose herself in it. His hand slid between their bodies to search blindly for her clit and she smiled up at him, touched his hair, kissed him. She was so wet from him, so swollen with the pleasure he had brought her already it felt like the peak of it was right at hand for him to pluck again.

“Like that?”

“Uh huh, just like that.”

Already she was addicted to the look in his eyes when he touched her, like instead of him giving her something special, she was the one who was granting him the grandest of privileges. That perhaps more than everything else tipped her over the edge and she came more easily, more naturally than she could ever remember. She clamped around him, clung to his back too, held him too close and Tom was made even more passionate from the moans he ignited in her. A few more thrusts filled her so deliciously full till he joined her and groaned at her ear, his shoulders trembling under her hands. Then finally he loosened on top of her and they were quiet.

"Fuck, that was nice."

She snorted. Her fingers buried in Tom’s hair to keep him close and she never, ever wanted to leave his arms. Of course, he had to and she pouted when he pulled back just for a moment to take off the condom and wipe himself clean with a tissue he found on her nightstand. At least there was the sight of his back, which she had hoped to see naked and which delivered on her hopes and yearnings. She wondered if she ought to find the courage and just ask him for cuddles but she did not need to voice her desires. Within the next breath, Tom lay back down by her side and held her close. Becky’s face rested against his shoulder to look up at him.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," she smiled.

He touched his fingers through her hair gently, careful not to pull too sharp. The caress was so tender, so quiet, yet fireworks were bursting in Becky’s mind again. She felt so excited, so smitten by him she couldn’t stop staring in adoration. His beard under her fingertips, hot skin burning underneath, still a little worked up from before. He frowned suddenly and she hated herself for how promptly this sent her into worrying.

"Your picture frames aren’t mounted."

Relief flooded her instantly and she felt a little foolish for having worried in the first place.

"Oh, yeah." She nestled close. She _was_ foolish too, she knew, for how unreasonably good she felt when Tom kissed the top of her hair, for how easily she was swayed by everything he did one way or another. "I still need to get a hammer."

He nodded and scratched her scalp so soothingly she shivered from head to toe. Her smile hid in the crook of his shoulder.

"I’ll have to come back with my toolbox to hang them up."

She perked up, leaned on an elbow to look at him. Her fingers tapped against his torso and were caught there by his hand entwining them with his.

"You can come back for other reasons, too."

He grinned.

"I _wanna_ come back for other reasons, too," he said, a bit cocky.

But he sighed. Pulling her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. His beard was a little tickling. She was finding out more and more that she liked that.

"I dunno what’s with me, but I feel like a horny kid again, like high school or something," he admitted. "I like you _so much_ , and I wanna see where this goes as like a serious thing…" Becky bit her lip. "But basically all I can think about right now is doing it again."

She smirked faintly.

"Well, my parents aren’t home."

The sunrise woke them up in the morning. Becky squirmed and squinted as warm rays of light hit her face through the blinds. Becoming aware of Tom and his embrace around her, she grinned into his broad naked chest, where she had found the softest pillow she could have ever known. Her mind soon bubbled up with the very fresh memories of the night before. Tom stretched with a groan and pulled her closer to him.

"Morning," he whispered in a voice thick with slumber. "Sleep well?"

"Mmh, so well..."

She smiled up at him, basking in the first bed hair of his she was seeing, the first morning waking up at his side. She wondered how many more she would be so lucky to live. He smiled back and she kissed him. Deepening the kiss, Tom caught his face between his hands, pulled her close to him. His thumbs stroked gently against her cheeks and made Becky feel lighter and breezier than she had in ages. He rolled on top of her and the kiss reached new thresholds of passion. She could feel him hard against her hip and tried to create greater contact for herself as well, trapping a thigh between hers.

"Any Saturday plans, sir?" She asked to entice and seduce him.

At once, the heat dropped as Tom’s eyes widened and he froze there, a hand still in Becky’s hair, the other at her cheek.

"Fuck," he blurted out. "I forgot to tell the kids I was staying over."

He groaned in something like frustration.

"Do you wanna tell them now?" She offered.

Her cheeks felt very pink and the heat of Tom’s naked body on top of hers was doing nothing for her poor desperate horny mood, but when he rolled off of her to search the floor for his jeans, she supposed her mood might have to wait a whole while. His phone in hand, he glanced at her and there was something sheepish in his sorry eyes, like the almost-moment they’d just broken hadn’t been entirely her own wish. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"I’ll just call them, alright? I’m so sorry…"

She shook her head, touched his lap.

"Go and call them, then," she said.

He made the call in the hall and, though Becky tried as she might to avoid eavesdropping, she heard tidbits here and there that filled her with fondness for him. He sounded very apologetic at first, but also more and more annoyed as the call went on for a few minutes. She could not hear Lex’s voice, though what she heard of Tom’s gave some idea of the shape of their conversation.

"I told you not to use that word," he was saying.

"Yeah, well, I’m an adult."

"I don’t think we’re there yet, Lex."

"Oh, you’re fucking impossible," he said finally, "Love you, see you later."

Becky had been laying comfortably under the covers and waiting for Tom to come back, but sat up at his entrance. He scratched his head and made a worse mess of his hair.

"She, erm… she says I’m not allowed to come home till I’ve made you breakfast in bed."

Becky hid her smile into the blanket she held up to cover herself for no good reason she could think of. Tom had seen the whole of her yesterday, of her body at least. If time allowed it, if he would have her, she would bare the rest of her to him, too.

"So… Do you have pancake mix?"

She grinned all the wider and there was no hiding this one.

"Top shelf over the sink."

She kept him company in the kitchen, if nothing else to bask in the sight for future daydreaming. He had opened the window for fresh air and birds were chirping outside as the kitchen bathed in sunshine. They didn’t talk much over the sound of cooking, though Tom was humming happily. She had taken his plaid for herself and was wearing nothing else. Tom had taken this as competition and had elected to wear nothing but her apron as he made them a batch of pancakes like he belonged in this kitchen, in this home. Every so often, he looked back at her to smile at her and the first time, the tenth time, she felt just the same thrilled twist in her stomach.

"A feast for you, my lady," he said with a goofy bow as he nodded her the way back to the bedroom.

They ate in bed, half cuddling, half hunched over the too small platter balanced between them. They talked a lot. They were silent a lot. Tom was giving her the bigger portions, barely eating a bite for himself but rather watching her with fondness and nodding and smiling at her chatter. There was a growing familiarity between them which surprised Becky with how natural it felt, simply blossoming organically. This was probably a trick of their minds, she supposed, the earliest of honeymoons making them buzz with excitement. Still, she enjoyed it.

"Becky, I just…"

She gulped down the last bite a little too quick and coughed on it but got it down alright with a gentle pat on the back. Tom took the platter from her lap to set it aside and took her hands in his.

"I… _really_ want to see you again," he said. "The way I feel… I’m just letting you know that, I’m in. I'm all in."

The stare they shared then was perfectly and exquisitely serious.

"Good," she said with more timidity than she had expected. "So am I."

They kissed and Becky felt more free, more happy than she ever had. To hell with it, having already spent the night here anyways, Tom seemed to think that he ought to linger a little bit and Becky was all too happy to oblige and welcome him as long as he would. The most delicious kisses at her lips, sweet with maple syrup and with his kindness, though when the kisses trailed down to her breasts and finally between her legs, Becky thought his kisses were not quite so sweet anymore, that there was something more fiery to them. A bit of spice among the sugar. All the good flavors in the world might be found in Tom Houston.

In the shower, she touched him and murmured to him of all the unspeakable fantasies that had overwhelmed her so the other day when she had known him naked in this very tub with her just past the wall. She barely dared to mention a few of them in their details and Tom came in her palm at their naughtiness. Like fuel for another time, she hoped. There _would_ be other times.

The goodbyes had her pathetic with how much she craved him to stay. She loathed to see him dressed again, though she straightened his collar and mussed his hair and kissed him before they passed the door. She drove him home − better than a walk of shame. They kissed again in front of his house.

"I’d offer you to come and meet the girls," he said, "But… maybe like, another time."

She laughed. She thought of the girls again and remembered no particular friction upon meeting them, or at least not with the younger one, but that had been before she kept their father from them for a carefree night of bliss anyways. She had a little time to think of a way to make up by the time she would meet them not as a client but as Tom’s… No word particularly came to mind that was befitting and she didn’t particularly try to find the right label either. There was all the time in the world for that.

"Another time," she smiled.

He kissed her again. Becky missed him the moment he closed the car door behind him. He waved at her before disappearing inside and she missed him so dearly her stomach was churning in sorrow. How weak of her.

Maybe this whole thing was crazy. They had not known each other a month and already she was filling up her head with dumb dreams and fantasies. Maybe they were heading towards an inevitable crash when the high would inevitably dip. Becky didn’t think so, though. For whatever reason, perhaps for no greater reason than their mutual happiness, her road had crossed with Tom’s, and she wasn’t backing away. She was racing right into it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember that comments feed my soul and keep me alive! Leave a comment!


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